


Hands on You

by ohnice1



Category: Happiest Season (2020)
Genre: Angst, Comedy, F/F, Guess who, Obsessive Hand Washing, Smut, freelance cab driver experiences ride of awkward silence, jk this is just a bunch of funny insults and smut, someone's a pillow princess, teenage angst resolved in childhood bedroom, the call is coming from within the house, two tops walk into a bar, unless?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnice1/pseuds/ohnice1
Summary: Harper and Riley have some unfinished business to deal with when they're both visiting home over Easter. Post-canon (pre-"one year later"), post-Abby/Harper breakup. 50% comedy, 50% smut, 100% off the wall.
Relationships: Harper Caldwell/Riley Johnson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	Hands on You

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I don't even know. I don't even ship them. I was basically held at internet gunpoint and forced to write this to get out of my comfort zone when my beta connected the incredibly obscure dots of an Aubrey Plaza icon with a post about Mackenzie Davis on my Twitter. The way she combined those independent pieces of information....we'll never know.

_I wish I would've laid my hands on you  
Shown you a thing or two  
I wish I would've pushed you against the wall  
Lock the door and bathroom stall, windows and the screen  
I wish you would've laid your hands on me_  
\- Ashley Monroe

“Well, well, well. Didn’t expect to see you here by yourself.”

“Riley!” Harper practically squeaks. “What a surprise.”

Riley tilts her head to the side, feigning contemplation. “Is it, though?”

“I mean, besides Christmas, we haven’t seen each other in years, so yeah, it is.”

“I’m gay. You’re gay, depending on who’s asking. This is a gay bar. It’s a holiday weekend. Fits the bill for me.”

Harper groans. “Did you come here by yourself just in the hopes that you would see me and be able to harass me?”

“Of course not, Harper,” Riley responds, the gentleness in her voice beyond overexaggerated. “I came here by myself in the hopes that I would meet a sexy, single woman to get drunk with. Unfortunately for me, I saw you instead.”

“Okay, you know what,” Harper relents, standing up from the barstool, “I’ll go. I kinda thought we were better after last Christmas, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Harper,” Riley says insistently. “Wait,” she sighs.

“No, no, it’s fine. I understand that you hate me, and I deserve that, but it doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to spend my night trading insults with my high school girlfriend.”

“I don’t hate you,” Riley counters, settling onto the barstool next to where Harper was previously sitting. “I had enough therapy to get over _that_. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to have a little fun with making you squirm, though.”

Harper rolls her eyes, dropping back onto her seat. “At least one of us had therapy. Try dealing with a lifetime of repression in one long weekend.”

“Gosh, if only therapists still existed. What a pity that there haven’t been any since the late two-thousands.”

“Very funny,” Harper deadpans.

“Not to change the subject, but I totally want to change the subject...where’s Abby?”

Harper grins sideways, her eyes narrowing. “Took you longer than I expected to ask. You had a thing for her, didn’t you?”

Riley clicks her tongue, crossing her arms tightly. “You’re right, Harper. I subjected myself to being with you in a bar just to ask _you_ about someone whose phone number I already have.”

“Then, why are you asking?” Harper counters.

“Because the last I heard, you made a big, romantic gesture at a gas station, and you two were back on the expressway to a lifetime of out-of-the-closet bliss. Imagine my surprise seeing you in town, visiting your family, sans girlfriend. Or fiancée or whatever you two were.”

“Fiancée?!” Harper all but shrieks.

Riley shrugs mutely, thinking better of disclosing Abby’s comment about proposing. “You brought a woman home for Christmas for the first time ever. Figured it was serious,” she mutters instead.

“It was.”

“Was?” Riley prods.

“Abby and I…” Harper trails off, polishing off her drink. She gestures immediately to the bartender to order another one. “Let’s just say that didn’t work out.”

Riley laughs and shakes her head. “If I remember correctly, the last time we saw each other, I said something along the lines of, ‘she’s a really good one,’ and you agreed. But here we are-”

“I know!” Harper interrupts angrily. “Shockingly, treating someone like garbage for four days can’t be undone with a grand gesture.”

“Wow, who knew?” Riley comments sharply. “Oh, wait. Literally everyone.”

“You know, just because I feel infinitely shitty about what I did to you doesn’t mean I’m in the mood to subject myself to...whatever this is. Have a nice night.”

Riley huffs. “Harper, wait.”

“I’m not in the mood, Riley,” Harper practically whines.

“Fine. I promise to do my absolute best to stop tormenting you.”

Harper looks at her questioningly. “And _why_ would you suddenly do that?”

Riley shrugs. “Maybe I took inventory of the patrons of this fine establishment, and you’re the only one that piques my interest at the moment.”

“Thanks?”

“Come on,” Riley commands, standing up. “I hate sitting at the bar. There’s a free booth over there.”

Harper grabs her freshly arrived drink from the bartender and wordlessly follows Riley to the booth, sliding in across from her. “How did you manage to get time off on a holiday again? Don’t residents work, like, twenty-four-seven?”

“Pretty much,” Riley confirms ruefully. “But alas, I’ve managed to get lucky two holidays in a row now. It helps that most surgeries are elective or planned, and nobody wants them over holiday weekends. Obviously not emergency appendectomies and crazy shit like gunshot wounds, but there are fewer of those.”

They ease into a less venomous rhythm, idle chit-chat slowly transitioning into a genuine conversation, catching up on the last decade and a half. Ultimately, though, the topic of their shared past surfacing again was inevitable.

“You know, I gotta be honest. I always thought maybe you were gonna come to your senses and actively apologize to me,” Riley admits. “I mean, more than whatever that was at Christmas.”

Harper slumps down in the booth. “I thought about it so many times,” she confesses quietly. “But, like, what are the right words for telling someone, ‘sorry that I broke your heart and ruined your life, I hope you know that it sucked for me, too?’”

“Literally, those exact words would have been a good start.”

Harper nods. “That’s fair.”

Riley finishes her drink and sets the glass back on the table with more force than intended. “Or, you know, like, pretty much anything other than glaring at me across the room at White Elephant years in a row as if I was the one who wronged _you_.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe I was just afraid of you?” Harper challenges.

Riley scoffs. “You? Afraid of me? Harper, please. Your family and this entire town have you on a pedestal. I’m just the black sheep dyke who got outed when they were still a child.”

“Or, you know, maybe I was also just a kid who was terrified of losing their family and had to choose between one person they fell in love with and their entire family they grew up loving.”

“I know that by now,” Riley says sadly. “Years of therapy, remember? Doesn’t make being an ostracized loser for the duration of high school any better for me, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

Riley scrunches her brow. “Thanks? I mean, better late than never, I guess.” She shifts in her seat uncomfortably. “At least now I know you really were in love with me, and I didn’t just have a year-long fever dream. I’m getting a refill. Want one?” She stands abruptly.

“Uh,” Harper stutters, caught off guard. “Sure.”

Riley sets off for the bar, leaving Harper alone in the booth contemplating their discussion. When Riley returns, Harper almost jumps out of her seat. “That was quick,” she notes.

“Yeah. It’s already after midnight, so, you know. Crowd’s dying down.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Harper looks at her phone. “Time flies.”

“I’d say ‘when you’re having fun,’ but I don’t know if that’s the right word for what this evening became.”

Harper raises her eyebrows. “Oh, really? And what would you call it?”

“I dunno,” Riley contemplates. “Enlightening? Maybe interesting. Refreshing? I don’t know, man, but fun would be a major stretch.”

Harper rolls her eyes. “Sorry to bore you, but this was basically your idea.”

“Maybe I’m a masochist,” Riley deadpans.

Harper laughs lightly. “Maybe. Maybe I am, too. It’s not like I was chomping at the bit to leave.”

“Nostalgia’s a bitch.”

Harper grins. “I don’t think it’s nostalgia.”

“No? Then what is it?”

“I don’t actually know. But I think if it were nostalgia, I’d be trying to sneak off into an empty room to try to kiss you instead of sitting here trading insults.” Harper ducks her head, and Riley thinks for a millisecond that she sees her blush.

Riley half scoffs, half snorts. “First of all, how you define nostalgia probably depends on which year you choose to look back at. Second of all,” she leans forward, “the glory of our modern age, being adults, and literally being in a gay bar is that you don’t have to sneak off to kiss whoever you want.”

“Speak for yourself,” Harper mutters ruefully.

“I always do,” Riley retorts confidently. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” She doesn’t wait for Harper to react before getting up from the table and making her way to the back of the bar where the bathrooms are.

Even though she doesn’t actually care how long Harper has to wait, considering how many _years_ she waited for Harper to behave like an empathetic adult and apologize, Riley tries to go as quickly as she can and is relieved when the bathroom doesn’t have a line. She leaves the stall area and rounds the tight corner to the area with the sinks.

“Sorry!” the other woman calls out when they run into each other at the corner. “Tight space.”

It’s Harper. Of course, it’s Harper.

“Did you leave my purse sitting at the table?”

Harper rolls her eyes so far back that it’s practically only the whites that remain visible. “Oh yeah, I was really trying to add to your list of grievances,” she says, holding it up. “But the bar is so empty now, I figured no one would steal our table.”

“Oh,” Riley says sheepishly. “Good.”

They’re still pressed up against each other in the confines of the narrow corridor. “I’m gonna...uh, go. I mean, it was kinda urgent, that’s why I didn’t wait at the table,” she excuses herself, handing off both of their purses to Riley before scurrying off into a stall.

Riley washes her hands and takes her time this time, the pressure of knowing Harper isn’t sitting around potentially rummaging through her purse or whatever (she passively realizes she has no reason to think Harper would actually do this) combined with her medical training not allowing her to cut corners.

Harper emerges just as Riley dries her hands. “You’re still here?”

She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m an obsessive hand washer. Med school.”

Harper washes her own hands, observing Riley, who is very clearly watching her, in the mirror the entire time. “Am I doing it right, Doctor Bennett?”

Now it’s Riley’s turn to roll her eyes. “Actually, since you asked,” she says, moving back over to the sink, “did you know that the most neglected part of handwashing is the fingernails and between your fingers? You don’t even wanna know what kind of uglies can stay lurking under there.” She moves directly behind Harper, taking the other woman’s hands in her own and positioning Harper’s thumb against the fingernails of her other hand. “You should do that for a few seconds on each hand.”

“Okay,” Harper says dumbly, doing as Riley said. “Better?” 

“Looked good to me.”

Harper turns off the water and shakes her hands over the sink, reaching for the paper towels to her right. When she’s done drying her hands, she spins around. However, Riley hasn’t really moved, which leaves the two of them standing face-to-face and inches apart.

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Sure,” Riley responds shortly. “Happy to help. God only knows when you might need to ensure that those fingers are in pristine condition.”

Harper arches an eyebrow. “Was that an innuendo?”

Riley draws her lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough that Harper notices the skin turning white.

“You always used to bite your lip like that after you got caught staring at me or you wanted me to kiss you,” Harper points out.

Riley releases her lip from her teeth and laughs. “You remember that?”

“I was an asshole, not dumb.”

“Debatable.”

Neither of them has made any attempt to move.

“Fine. I was also dumb,” Harper admits. “But I also spent a lot of time staring at you, and that lip bite of yours was the subject of plenty of dreams, both day and night, and I know damn well what it meant.”

“Meant?” Riley says, intentionally biting her lip again. “Bold of you to assume it’s changed.”

Harper can’t stop her eyes from looking directly at Riley’s mouth. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind.”

“If there’s someone here who’s losing their mind, it’s probably me,” Riley says wryly. “So are you planning to kiss me, or are we going to leave this tiny ass bathroom and go back to insulting each other?”

Harper doesn’t reply, choosing instead to hook her index fingers through Riley’s belt loops to bring their hips flush together before pulling her into a kiss.

It’s rough and aggressive but also almost exactly how they both remember it. Riley’s teeth dig into Harper’s lips, and she parts them to make space, allowing Riley’s tongue to quickly take advantage of the opportunity and seek out Harper’s own. Soon after, Riley has Harper fully pinned against the sink and one hand reaching for Harper’s thigh.

“Damn, I haven’t seen that kinda action in this bar in a _long_ time,” someone comments as they enter the bathroom. “I need to have what _y’all_ been having, shit,” the woman mutters as she moves into a stall and slams the door.

Riley examines Harper’s face for signs that she’s about to freak out or, worse, do something completely irrational like slap her. She finds none.

“Do you wanna get outta here?” Harper pants instead.

Riley’s eyes widen. “Are you asking if I want to leave here and fuck or if I want to go back to the booth?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious that I meant the first.”

“Then, yes.”

They separate and leave the bathroom without another word, breezing by the booth to grab their coats before heading outside.

“I’ll get a Lyft,” Riley offers. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Harper looks stumped. “Well, I don’t think you want to play twenty questions with my mother first, so my parents’ house is out.”

Riley rolls her head back and forth. “I don’t exactly have my own place here, either.”

“Fuck,” Harper mutters.

“That’s the goal.” Riley looks up and down the street as if hoping for an epiphany. “Let’s just go to my parents’ house. They’re almost definitely asleep, and you could probably just rush straight for my room without being seen, anyway. My parents know who I am, but I don’t think a late-night booty call with my first girlfriend is something they’ll be waving their pride flags for.”

Harper tenses. “Fine.”

The ride to Riley’s parents’ house is relatively short but awkward, the close physical contact and sexual tension in the bathroom practically a distant memory. They each lean against opposite windows in the backseat for the entire trip.

Fortunately, Riley’s parents are indeed already in bed when they arrive, making the short journey to Riley’s bedroom an easier one. “Make yourself at home, I guess,” Riley says, tossing her jacket onto the chair in the corner. “Do you want some water or something?” she asks, grabbing a bottle for herself from the package under the bed.

“Sure. Thanks.” Harper takes the bottle and drinks, looking around the room in a way she hopes is discreet. “Your room looks almost exactly the same.”

“Save for the Bop and Teen Vogue pinups, pretty much.” Riley looks around the room. “I really never came back once I left for college, so there wasn’t much reason to change it. Sorry to tell you that our breakup didn’t lead me into the arms of Trading Spaces or whatever the HGTV shows were back then.”

“I was just making conversation.”

“Harper,” Riley sighs, placing her water bottle on the nightstand. “Did you come here to make conversation with me? Because we could have done that at the bar.”

“No.” She takes a few steps, setting her own bottle on the nightstand next to Riley’s and moving into her space.

“That’s what I thought.” Riley takes another step closer, leaving them close enough that their breasts just touch. “What did you come here for?”

Harper shudders at the feeling of Riley pressing against her ever so slightly. “You know why.”

“Say it,” Riley insists.

Harper grabs Riley by the belt loops again, just as she did in the bathroom. “You and I both know the only reason we’re in this room right now is to finish what we started.”

“Harper,” Riley says in a way that borders on condescending, “are you really still such a prude? You can say it, you know.”

“Say what?”

“That you came here to fuck. It’s okay. It’s literally the only reason you’re here right now, and I think we both know that.”

“Riley-”

“Just shut up,” Riley commands, cutting off any possibility for Harper to reply when she smashes their lips back together again. 

Her legs backed against the bed, Riley grabs Harper firmly around the waist and turns them both around without separating their lips. She slides her hands up to Harper’s ribcage, shoving her just enough to make her fall back on the bed. 

“Take your shoes off,” Riley orders brusquely, kicking her own shoes off at the same time. 

Harper kicks her boots off wordlessly and props herself up on her elbows, observing Riley as she takes off her blazer and throws it onto the chair with her coat. She grabs at Riley’s shirt, holding onto a fistful of it trying to pull Riley on top of her.

Riley smirks and the look in her eyes makes it clear she’s pleased by Harper’s eagerness. “Impatient, are we?”

Harper lets out a single bitter laugh. “Did you wanna trade a few more insults or traumatic memories first?”

“You’re right. Please shut up.”

“With pleasure,” Harper snides under her breath.

Riley jerks Harper’s elbows out from under her and leans fully over her body, moving her lips next to Harper’s ear. “That’s the idea.” 

Riley’s lips connect with Harper’s ear and she alternates lavishing attention on it with her tongue and teeth, making sure to let her rough breath land directly in Harper’s ear, eliciting a shudder. “You and your ears,” Riley comments appreciatively, moving over Harper’s body and to her other ear. 

Harper doesn’t respond but releases another shuddery breath when Riley pulls her earlobe between her teeth. She squeezes Riley’s hands tightly when they drag her own above her head and pin them there.

Riley kisses a trail around Harper’s jawline, stopping to hover just above Harper’s mouth. “You were always so easy to rile up. I bet you’re already so wet.” She doesn’t allow for a reply, instead seizing Harper’s mouth in an open-mouth kiss.

As she kisses back, Harper attempts to free her hands from where they remain pinned above her head. 

Riley doesn’t relent. “If you wanna stop, just say the word. Otherwise, I don’t know where you think you’re going.”

“Who’s stopping?” Harper pants, bucking her hips firmly enough to knock Riley off balance. When Riley shifts to regain her balance, Harper uses the moment to pull their joined hands down and flips them over. “I’m just getting started,” she says into Riley’s ear. “I seem to recall you being more of a neck person,” she comments, kissing her way down from Riley’s earlobe to her throat. She grins when she feels Riley’s moan vibrate in her throat and uses the moment to bite into the skin there.

Harper moves up Riley’s neck, around her jawline, and back down the other side of Riley’s throat, peppering kisses along the way. When she reaches her collarbone, Harper releases Riley’s hands and moves her own immediately to Riley’s chest, palming her breasts. “Get up,” she commands as she stands up.

Riley arches a brow sharply, then gets up. “Since when are you such a top?”

Harper pulls at Riley’s shirt and begins hastily unbuttoning it. “We weren’t exactly doing _this_ at fifteen. It’s almost like things can change.”

Riley shoves Harper’s hands away as she finishes the last button, sliding out of her shirt herself. “Some things don’t,” she says roughly, moving closer and leaning down just enough to gather the bottom of Harper’s dress in her hand. “This is in my way.” The dress is pulled over Harper’s head and off immediately and Riley notes the tights she’s still wearing with displeasure. “These too,” she points out, moving to discard the remaining garment.

“Well, now you’re overdressed.” Harper surges forward to kiss Riley again and places steadying hands on her waist as she walks them back into the edge of the bed.

Riley falls backward, hips positioned just at the side of the bed, and Harper undoes her belt before setting about unbuttoning her pants. “Off.”

“Damn Harper,” Riley drawls as she pushes her pants off. “Have you changed that much or are you just really horny?” She kicks her pants the rest of the way off and they land in a heap near the rest of her clothes.

Anxiety flashes across Harper’s features, face scrunching while she moves her arms across her chest; the momentary insecurity only serves to make Riley feel more confident. Nonetheless, she wants to get laid and not send Harper into a meltdown, so she decides to save the situation. She reaches out to touch her fingertips to Harper’s stomach and moves around behind her.

“Both answers are good,” she says into Harper’s back, kissing a trail down her spine. “It makes no difference to me whether you’re horny for me or you turned into a top or both.” She slides her fingers under the waistband of Harper’s panties, slowly and torturously pulling them off, lips trailing behind her right hand all the way to Harper’s knee.

Harper reaches back without looking, her hand finding its way into Riley’s hair as she kisses her way up the back of the other leg this time. As she nears the top, she pulls one of Harper’s hips while pushing her from behind on the other side to turn her around again. While she’s tempted to remain on the floor and take Harper into her mouth right away, she stands up again instead, eager to draw this all out just a bit more.

Unable to resist completely, she slides her index finger between Harper’s legs just once and grins. She moves again to Harper’s ear, knowing it will drive her wild yet again. “I knew you’d be wet for me.” Riley traces her tongue around Harper’s ear while also palming both of her breasts.

They stay like that for a moment, Riley continuing her work at Harper’s ear and breasts, until Harper moves her head away quickly as if suddenly coming to her senses about something.

Riley looks concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

Harper pulls Riley flush against her and wishes she’d had the sense to remove her panties when she feels them against her own naked body. “There is one dilemma here,” she says into Riley’s neck.

“God, I thought you were about to freak out on me.”

Harper pulls back momentarily and looks Riley straight in the eye. “If I were going to freak out, it would have happened before you had me standing here naked.”

Riley bites her lip and raises her eyebrows, looking pleased. 

“But that brings me back to our dilemma,” Harper continues, lips drawn back to Riley’s neck like magnets while her hands, flat against Riley’s torso, slide ever-so-slowly down her body and under the waistband of Riley’s underwear.

Riley leans her head back, allowing Harper better access to her neck. “And what dilemma might that be?”

Harper shoves the underwear the rest of the way off. “We both want to be in the driver’s seat.” She doesn’t allow for an answer, bringing their lips back together and effectively stifling their chatter again.

Harper leans back against the mattress just enough to level out their height difference and they stay like that for a while, kissing heatedly while their hands roam, remapping long forgotten paths over one another’s bodies. 

“Harper,” Riley says against her neck before making her way to close her mouth around a swollen nipple.

“Riley,” Harper mimics in a strained voice.

“I could totally do this standing up, but maybe we wanna think about...relocating?” She nods at the bed.

“Right.” 

Harper slides backward onto the bed, using her elbows to crawl back into a normal position with her head at the pillows. Riley follows closely, hovering over Harper’s body the entire time, knees on each side of her. “I knew you were a pillow princess.”

“Fuck you,” Harper tries to sneer, but she laughs and it takes the bite away. 

“Be my guest.”

Harper moves so quickly that Riley is powerless to stop her when she sits up. Riley winds up in her lap, still straddling her thighs. “Call me a pillow princess again,” Harper taunts.

“I stand corrected.”

Harper smirks. “That’s what I thought.” She dives down to Riley’s chest, taking one nipple between her teeth and pressing into it sharply as she mimics the motion on Riley’s other breast with a pinch of her fingers. 

Riley begins to grind her hips, desperate to make contact with something to get some release, but their current position makes her unsuccessful. She digs her nails into Harper’s shoulder blades; the pressure on her nipples increases as a result and she lets out a deep moan. “Fuck, Harper.”

Harper relocates her mouth to the other breast and briefly allows her hand to replace her mouth before thinking better of it and moving it between Riley’s legs. “Seems like I’m not the only one getting wet,” she says appreciatively. 

Harper moves her index finger from between Riley’s legs and into her mouth and Riley nearly loses it. “And what do you plan to do about it?” she chokes out.

“Well,” Harper begins, guiding her hand back between Riley’s legs. “I was planning on fucking you until you scream so loud you get worried the door isn’t locked. Does that work for you?”

“Finally you say you want to fuck. I’m proud of you,” Riley teases. “But the door is definitely locked and my parents’ room is definitely too far away for me to be worried. Do you have a backup plan?”

Harper rolls her eyes playfully, sliding two fingers back between Riley’s slick folds, allowing them to move firmly over her clit before lingering at her entrance. “Pretty sure the rest of my plan still stands.”

When Harper pushes her fingers inside, Riley simultaneously feels relief and eagerness, desperate for more. “God,” she moans into Harper’s ear, not willing to stop working her up just yet.

A high-pitched moan escapes Harper’s throat. “You feel so good,” she pants, effectively pushing back any other reaction to Riley’s activities at her ear.

Riley sits back, pulling her lips away from Harper’s ear and over her mouth in a kiss that’s sloppier than she intended. “You know what makes me even wetter?”

Harper leans back slightly to look at Riley’s face. “What?” 

“Fucking somebody and listening to them moan my name.”

Riley shifts her bodyweight and Harper has no choice but to remove her fingers. “What are you doing?” she complains.

“Chill,” Riley says calmly, moving her legs so that her feet are no longer under her kneeling position but rather extended behind Harper, ass flat on the bed between Harper’s knees. “I just said I wanted to hear somebody moan my name, didn’t I? You’re the only one here. Now get back to what you were doing,” she commands, suppressing any potential argument with a kiss.

“What was I doing?” Harper asks, clearly playing dumb. Riley glares at her. “Two can play your game. Tell me what you want.”

Riley reclaims her leverage and palms both of Harper’s breasts while moving back to her ear once more. “Fuck me like you already were. Two fingers inside. And you know what?” she teases, licking a path around the rim of Harper’s ear. “I’m going to do the same thing to you.”

The guttural moan Harper elicits lets Riley know she approves of the plan.

Harper pushes her fingers back inside, Riley mimicking her movements soon after. They move into a rhythm, mirroring one another’s movements and stifling each other’s louder sound effects with heated kisses.

“Like that,” Harper manages, closing her teeth around Riley’s neck to hold back the moan building steadily in her throat. “God, yes.”

Riley’s free hand finds purchase in Harper’s hair, burying itself there and pulling firmly as Harper curls her fingers in a way that makes her eyes roll back in her head. Harper positions her thumb to move over Riley’s clit with each clit and she begins to think she might lose her mind. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Come for me,” Harper husks, increasing her pace yet again. “You’re so wet, just let go,” she says into Riley’s ear.

“Oh God,” Riley cries out, voice at a high pitch she hasn’t heard in...she doesn’t know how long. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Harper moans. “Just come,” she says, pulling Riley’s hand away from between her legs.

Riley, too delirious to argue, falls back on the bed. Harper takes the opportunity and adjusts her position, torso hovering over Riley’s body once again.

“So fucking hot,” Harper says into Riley’s neck.

“Don’t stop, I’m gonna-” Riley stops abruptly and Harper hears her breath catch in her throat. “Fuck!” she cries out. 

Harper feels the throbbing tension against her fingers as Riley finds release and she pulls her hand back slowly, trying to avoid overstimulating the other woman as she rides out her orgasm. “That was so hot,” she drawls, laying a hot trail of open-mouth kisses up Riley’s neck to her mouth.

Riley stays quiet, the sounds of her labored breathing the only noise in the room for a few moments. Once her breathing evens out, she wastes no time. “Turn over.”

“Riley-”

“Turn. Over.”

Harper doesn’t need to be told again and rolls onto her back.

“Just be a pillow princess for a minute,” Riley toys, moving to hover over Harper’s body and quickly making her way down her torso with her mouth.

She settles between Harper’s legs, wasting no time in closing her mouth around Harper’s clit. She can’t help but moan against her, earning a buck of Harper’s hips in return.

“Yes,” Harper hisses. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Riley moans again, trying desperately to focus on Harper’s body instead of her own spinning head. Fortunately, it works, the presses of her stiffened tongue directly on Harper’s swollen clit leading to the other woman bunching up the bedsheets in her fists.

“Don’t stop. Feels so good,” Harper pants, more air than words.

As time goes by, Riley’s mind clears and she regains focus, dragging her hands up from Harper’s hips, over her stomach, and onto each of her breasts.

Harper goes wild, her hips moving in sync with Riley’s tongue. Her right hand digs into Riley’s scalp, which only serves to press Riley further into her cunt. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh my god, I’m gonna-” she stops speaking and cries out suddenly, her release taking over her body as her muscles tense then suddenly relax all at once. 

Riley, face still buried between Harper’s legs, can’t resist dragging her tongue over Harper’s clit just one more time, causing the other woman to react with a sudden jump. She kisses a slow trail up Harper’s stomach before landing at her lips, face still slick.

“That was…” Harper breathes out between kisses.

“What?”

Harper laughs. “Well...better than I thought it would be the last time I thought about it at fifteen, I guess.”

Riley chuckles, dropping to Harper’s side. She tries to ignore how intimate it is when Harper’s arm snakes around her body and lands on her ribcage. “Really? You haven’t thought about me since high school, huh?”

Harper exhales deeply through her nose. “Maybe once or twice...but it was definitely more _vivid_ when I was a hormonal teenage virgin.”

Riley laughs and it’s genuine and light and wonderful. “That’s fair. I think I was too pissed at you to think about you like that since...then,” she admits.

“I don’t blame you,” Harper says into Riley’s forehead. She pushes back the instinctual urge to plant a kiss there. 

They stay in silence for a bit, each trailing lazy fingertip pathways over the other’s body.

“What now?” Riley eventually says into Harper’s chest.

Harper sighs. “I don’t know.”

Riley sits up on her elbow. “I have an idea.”

Harper turns her head to make eye contact. “I’m listening.”

“Up for a round two?”

Harper grins. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

* * *

There’s a round two and a round three before reality begins to set in and the sun threatens to start rising.

“So...what was this?” Harper ventures, pulling her dress over her head.

Riley stands at the dresser, digging through the doors for fresh clothes to sleep in. “What do you want it to be?”

Harper shakes her head. “I asked you first.”

Riley scoffs and throws her head back in resignation. “Let’s call it a one night stand that cleared the air.”

“If that’s what you want,” Harper agrees dully, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

“I don’t know what I want,” Riley admits, voice muffled by the t-shirt she’s pulling over her head. “But I can’t offer you more right now. This was the first time I looked at you without feeling anything but rage since we were still dropping notes in each other’s lockers.”

Harper smiles sadly and slips her boots on. “Okay,” she acquiesces, moving back over to the side of the bed that Riley’s just fallen back into. “I can live with that.” She takes a chance and drops a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Okay,” Riley says when they part.

“See you around?” Harper ventures.

“I’ll let you know the next time I’m in town.”

A smile tugs at Harper’s lips and she forces it down. “Likewise.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Bye, Riley.”

“See you, Harper.”

Harper would find herself in Baltimore covering a story less than a month later. 

Neither one of them points out that it’s never more than two minutes between the messages they exchanged that weekend.

**Author's Note:**

> We will now resume our regularly scheduled Abby/Riley programming 😬


End file.
